Caitiff of the Wastes
by Sansophia
Summary: Theresa Miller tried to save the world once, and saw it burn in atomic fire. She tired to rebuild the world once and it ended in the Divide. Now teamed up with the Vault Dweller, made bitter by old age, she must confront her long past, and bloodlust that will drag her back into vampirism. There is no more lonesome road than the Path of Humanity, but one never truly walks it alone.
1. The Future is Shinging and Bright

To my dearest Thomas:

If you are hearing this recording, I am surely dead. However long that may be...um well...this message cannot come to you until then. Too much is at stake. I was not the first to receive your hospitality, and I doubt I will be the last, the Kindred aren't nearly picky enough to avoid it.

I am Theresa Miller. I was embraced in Knoxville Tennessee over Labor Day Weekend 2010, and although you promised in your southern fashion you could never forget woman such as I, I will take no chances. Today is January 19, 2012; it has been eight months since I left your company to return home to Columbus and seven since I fled that city and anything related to the life of the Kindred. It has been one year, four months, thirteen horrific days since I was dragged into the night. It is, in the totality of things, the only chance I will have to speak to without sobs and terror and regret. I never found my place in the Camarilla, I never discovered who my sire was, nor why they thought I would flourish in that in that wretched life. You have adapted well, I never would.

And that is why I am recording this: Thomas, I am free. The dead do come back to life. There is, THERE IS deliverance from vampirism! It's not a fool's errand, it never was! I know you thought it would destroy me, but if there wasn't I would be truly and finally dead now. And you what? I can't stand that secrecy bullshit the Cam keeps pulling on us, never telling us anything but what the Elders find convenient. So these tapes are a record, a simple step by step direction...its not an easy road, and it will be harder for you, much harder, and harder still for those who have blood on their hands. But look at the pictures. That's me...sunburnt, in the sun, and as alive. Also Cosplaying: I'm in India for cripes sake, how am I not going to dress up like a steampunk British explorer! Ha ha ha! But that's my way of celebrating.

I imagine you know this process is Golconda, and you can imagine why I would go to India. A wee bit literal minded, but when you're short on inspiration, start with the stupidly simple. I picked that up from somewhere from a Toreador who works in lawn ornaments. Can't remember exactly who, but since you're a Toreador, I'm sure you've seen him around somewhere.

And believe it or not, Golconda is stupidly simple too, when people don't speak of it in ice cream kones: Golconda is understanding and coming to terms with the vampiric condition, that's the only thing anyone I've ever heard anyone talk about can agree on. The problem is, to understand the vampiric condition you have to understand the HUMAN condition. Then you have to compare the two to understand why vampirism is so painful to some and joyous to shitheads. Good people will be driven to despair, evil people will be driven to the Beast, and decent, moral but not too moral people like you will endure it as some sort of exchange of power and life for everything that makes life worth living. You don't technically need any guide, I didn't. I wasn't afforded that kind of luxury. And if I weren't sure the Camarilla would kill me, or worse, turn me into a Nosferatu as an object lesson, the next flight would bring me to your door. Nothing would make me happier than to see you in the sun.

Thomas, you're not going to like what I'm going to say here, but this is the truth: you cannot be a part of vampire society and seek Golconda. Those acceptable concessions you all make to the beast, to your own hunger, they won't do anything but hinder you. It's obvious you can't be Sabbat, but you can't play the games of the Camarilla, and even the fuckstick Anarchs what to change the Cam rather than leaving behind everything that makes vampires despicable to mortal eyes. You told me others have searched for centuries, finding nothing but regret, and I've never known you to tell me anything but the truth. But you can't shake off the undead stink until you want out. Really, truly deeply want out. Because unless you want to die...no, scratch that...unless you accept that you will die and are prepared to die can you have the hope of walking in the sun.

And when this goes public in the world of the undead, the Camarilla is fished. So is the Sabbat. They are built on the hopelessness and despair when must choose between being a blood sucking parasite and meeting the sun. They thrive on that fear that we cling to a fading humanity, they cling like the stink of rotting flesh! That we are unholy, we are damned, we are unworthy to walk in the light. These are lies. The first step to Golconda is accepting death. The second, is to understand you are human, and you are human inviolate. Nothing can ever, ever take your humanity from you. The fangs, the disfigurements, the powers...they're all window dressings, frills on tainted lace.

I didn't need any Yogi, I needed no guide. That's in large part because I had done nothing wrong: not an assault, not a plot, I had not so much as one drop of human blood that wasn't in in a bloodpack. I had nothing to atone for..I just had to learn. And I took no joy in being a vampire...you kept telling me to enjoy my gifts and I told you the only power that matters is the ability to walk in the sun. Bad attitude? It was the beginning of my journey. It's a lot easier to give up an existence you find a fate worse than death. People use that term a lot, and yet they don't really mean it. I was raped and murdered and drug into Hell because someone thought I would become a demon. And you were there, but you don't understand you're in Hell, you think it isn't Hell because you can see the living and talk with the living and create with the living. But they despise you Thomas. You refuse their games, you look down on their shitty plotting and watch the chaos. You dwell in Hell and mock the drapes. Good for you. But they will destroy you in time. They destroy everyone in time. But before that happens, decent people, the good as circumstances will allow folk of the rank and file keep the Camarilla together. When they walk away, it will crumble to dust, the Anarchs will be no more. Then the Werewolves will devour the Sabbat lock stock and barrel, and I can only say good riddance.

I...look...maybe this isn't the best time to do the step by step. Honestly...it was two days ago and I want to shout the world vampirism doesn't have to be forever. I walked through the door: I gave everything up vampirism offered me, and I could do it so rapidly because I wanted NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL to do with any of it. And I was through when I came back to Columbus. I don't hate everyone in the Camarilla, but I only cared for you. The Camarilla itself is evil to the core. Well...there was a Gangrel named William, although I doubt I can save him. Horrible clan! But he wanted out like I did. But he doesn't have the courage to leave, to forsake everything. I did. My soul is not for sale Thomas, not at any price. In the end, its the only thing I have.

I'll start this again later. Maybe even re-record, I don't know. I've got one draft done, but editing is always touch and go. I've lost my house, I can never go back to Columbus, or Knoxville for that matter, but...I have reconciled with my sister. Just got off the phone with her, well Skype. The rest of my family will follow, I'm sure of it. And food tastes good again and I can breathe again and Thomas, there is absolutely no life without the sun. A thousand years of learning and wealth and decadence is not worth one tenth of one minute in the sun. That's six seconds of warmth and comfort. Vampire is a fool's game. And its a fool's game because every vampire denies this and every vampire knows its a lie.

You're right though: every life is a story, to be celebrated, to be remembered. And that's why you'd take in the poor crying, confused little Caitiff despite the odd looks of your fellows. I'm actually pretty sure my sire was a Ventrue and I rejected as much of the vampiric curse as I could. Even when I had fangs I was no Kindred, not even a proper Kindred. I was an outcast because I would never belong to that wretched pile of shit you all call a life. I was Caitiff, I AM Caitiff: I am the only one who is truly free. And I will show anyone the way, all they need do is ask. I got my humanity back, I win.

I am convinced that there are hundreds of us, men and women who are still alive who have been restored. But none of us have any desire to ever go back to that wretched life, not even to save people we care about. It's the only way I can see that there are not legions and legions of Kindred vampire hunters, crying out in agony at the injustice of their embrace, seeking to avenge their murders, and to commit genocide so that no one would ever, ever be embraced again. In that way it is a wasted mercy on the mass of the Kindred.

This is where my story truly begins. And you can never be a part of it...I really hate that. I love you for all you've done for me. I will show you the way out. Because the world of men what matters. Like my little sister keeps telling me: Our future is shining and bright. It can only get better from here.


	2. War Never Changes

War...war never changes.

When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived well did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins to rebuild a broken society and a broken world Those not so fortunate survived at great cost, eventually building new societies, establishing new villages, forming new tribes. As decades passed, the American southwest united again beneath the flag of the United States of America, headed by New California Republic: dedicated to old world values, democracy and the rule of law.

As the United States began to pull itself together, the thirst for reunification grew insatiable. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of cities untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world and a great wall spanning the Colorado River. The Hoover Dam, against all expectation, had survived. The NCR, always under the banner of Old Glory, mobilized its army and set it east to occupy the Hoover Dam and restore it to working condition.

But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves, forged in the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion. Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam, barely, against the Legion's ruthless, relentless, asymmetrical onslaught. The Legion did not retreat however. Across the River, they gathered strength. Campfires burned, training drums beat.

Through it all, the so called "New Vegas Strip" has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer, Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots. In 2181, 104 years had passed since the end of the world as we know it, and Theresa Miller found herself working as a Courier for the Mohave Express, hired to deliver a simple package to the New Vegas Strip. Naturally the job has taken a turn for the worse. But strange forces are afoot in Nevada, and life in the Mojave is about to change...

Sansophia presents, in association with Obsidian Entertainment...

**Fallout: Caitiff of the Wastes**

Note: this story is not strictly speaking a novelization of Fallout New Vegas. There are vast, innumerable changes to the New Vegas setting, particularity the condensed post-apocalypse timeline. Also, this is sort of an advertizement because I have a real, publishable story in mind that frankly, I need a collaborator on. So I've retrofitted Vegas to exhibit the characters and the writing style. My hopes are to capture Fallout style of kitchy retro-futurism, black comedy, ultaviolence and absurdity without having to rely of Artistic License. Fair Warning, I don't value anything but stark realism and so anything I can't justify I will retcon, anything I can, I will explain. Fallout is art by happenstance, and its creators want to sell comic books, so I will have done of it. So no "Science!" NV mods will make cameos.

Also, Theresa is a canon immigrant, Golconda is wonky because Masquerade didn't define it properly which gives me all sort of loophole abuse and I will say virtually nothing of World of Darkness because the franchise sucks major ass. I had to play NV before I could give Theresa a story worth a damn. Simply assume every metaphysical detail of World of Darkness was wrong and nobody in the supernatural ghetto had any real power, they all withered away and mankind neither knew nor cared because ultimately the supernatural ghetto was never ever remotely important, simply a stumbling block to the glory of mankind and natural, law driven, objective reality that reality actually is. Theresa is functionally a WOD dymphir, although this can fluctuate, and had fluctuated in the past. Golconda is wonky.

First question is, do I go directly into the quasi NV storyline or do Honest Hearts, which takes place before NV in this storyline?

Oh did I mention: quasi-vampire heroine AND grizzled old lady Vault Dweller sidekick?!


End file.
